


Silk and Honey

by ObligatoryNasty



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, At least some plot, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Peter is 17 and then his birthday happens, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Shoe Kink, Starker, Stripper!Peter AU, Stripping, lap dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-06 05:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21221474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObligatoryNasty/pseuds/ObligatoryNasty
Summary: Tony Stark is on a mission to find the next Avenger, who also happens to be everyone's favorite friendly neighborhood hero: Spider-Man aka Peter Parker. On the night Tony tries to track down the spider kid, he sees him go into a strip club. Why is Peter Parker stripping you might ask? Tony wants to know too, so he goes into the club to find out and ends up having a lapse in judgment...





	1. Chapter 1

“FRI, you’re sure this is the place?” Tony stood atop an adjacent building, donning his stealth suit and staring down at the mess of neon lights, drunk patrons, and loud music spilling from the establishment.

“Yes,” FRIDAY replied. “Surveillance from nearby security and traffic cameras indicate that the target, Spider-Man, was last seen entering this building from a back entrance at approximately 9:50 PM.”

“FRIDAY, this is a strip club.”

“That is a correct assessment of the location, boss.”

“I don’t remember programming any of that sass.” Tony grinned, knowing that the AI must have learned it from him. “Okay, let’s ditch the suit.” He jumped into an alleyway, easing his fall with his boot thrusters as the nanotech melted away from his body to reveal a classic Tony Stark gray suit. “I can see the headlines now: _Tony Stark enters Gay Strip Club under the Guise of Night_.” He laughed as he fastened his cuff buttons, adjusted his hair, and placed his signature sunglasses on his face. “Pep’s not going to let me hear the end of this one, is she?”

FRIDAY’s interface gleamed across the surface of the glasses, “Analysis of previous instances leads to a no, boss.”

Tony rolled his eyes at his digital assistant and exited the alley. As he approached the building, crowds of eyes and gossip surrounded him, yet, he kept himself in stride, completely unfazed by the chatter. He was used to it after all. At the door, a bouncer’s face lit up, “Oh wow! Sir, you’re Tony Stark!”

“Yes,” Tony sighed. “And you’re nondescript strip club bouncer.” He gave the man a bored look. “And you also happen to be in the way.” The smug grin that undoubtedly appeared on his lips was one that Rhodey always told him not to use because _it’s rude and makes people feel inferior_. But Tony had no time to worry about the bouncer’s response. He had a spider to catch.

The inside of the club was dimly lit with purple hues, save for the stage which was basked in a warm red spotlight. The place reeked of boozy drinks and the men that drank them. They sat in chairs that encircled the stage, grabbing at the young male servers and throwing dollars at the blonde stripper dancing around the center pole. The music was energetic and the dancer was even more so, popping his body in time and gaining perverted whistles from the groups of men.

Tony took a seat at the bar that spanned the back wall and tapped against the wooden surface to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey, you.”

The bartender peeked up. “Yes, sir?”

“Would you happen to know if any high school kids work here?”

“No, sir! Absolutely not!” The bartender was adamant. “Everyone who works here is eighteen or older. We would never hire someone younger than that.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” Tony deadpanned. “Then does someone by the name Pe-?”

“Now wasn’t that just a phenomenal performance! Show our boy some love!” The DJ’s voice boomed over the music, and Tony’s conversation, as the blonde boy on stage quickly collected his earnings and sauntered backstage. “The next dancer we have for you is our newest boy-” The men hollered at the announcement like a pack of wild dogs. “And clearly a fan favorite I see. Let’s get those dollars out for the young, gravity-defying beauty himself. Make some noise for Silk and Honey!”

All the lights in the club went dark, except for the stage’s red spotlight, and the men practically howled when it happened. From behind the curtain, a young boy stepped onto the stage and posed, face turned away from the crowd. He wore a loose black outfit that covered every inch of his body and as the music began lowly drumming through the darkness, the fabric flowed in time.

The kid swayed his hips to the sensual rhythms and took ginger steps towards the pole. His feet strapped in shiny sliver stilettos and his nose and mouth covered in a white silk mask that hooked on the ears. He clutched the pole, strutting around it and rolling his body to the music. And when one man screamed a very distracting ‘_Take it off!_’, the boy obliged. Without halting his mesmerizing movements, the kid’s hands danced at the bottom of the loose shirt in a tease before pulling upwards, revealing a white strappy chest harness that made Tony’s mouth go dry. The pants were next to go. They tore away in a quick motion and unveiled a pair of silk booty shorts that cupped his body in a way that left nothing to the imagination.

“Boss, image analysis indicates that Silk and Honey’s physique is an exact match for Spider-Man’s.”

“Okay, let’s just not talk for a sec, FRI.” Tony blushed, realizing that he was being enraptured by his target but making the hasty decision to let himself have this. He wanted to watch.

The kid grabbed the pole again and hopped towards it, his legs hooking the pole at the knees as his body spun around effortlessly. The sensual rotations gained delighted cheers from the men fawning over him. As he eased himself down into a headstand, they threw stacks of ones against the stage, and as he dropped his legs into a split, the crowd clapped and whistled. From his place at the bar, Tony intensely stared, unbelievably enamored with the boy’s flexible body and the way it moved.

The kid commanded the attention of everyone in the room. He was breathtaking. His performance was full of aerial tricks; spins and kicks and climbs and drops. Tony found himself holding his breath, especially when those heels clicked together or those creamy legs spread apart and the light hit them just right. Or when he dropped against the floor on his knees and bent over like he was being fucked. Tony knew it was just typical stripper floor work – there was nothing inherently special about it – but something about the way the kid did it made blood rush to Tony’s pants.

Then the kid’s song began to culminate, and the hollering from the men was in crescendo as if to beg for one final move. And the kid rewarded them. He climbed to the top of the pole and flipped, maintaining his poise and treating the ceiling as the floor. Again, he strutted around the pole, rolling his body to the music, but this time, he was upside down. It was so beautiful and seamless and, just as the DJ said, gravity-defying. Tony wanted to watch more. He almost needed it.

The kid finished his performance with a drop that made the whole room gasp. He was centimeters off the floor, thighs clutching the pole, body in an alluring plank, and eyes smiling at his fans who showered his body in money.

“Give it up for the illustrious Silk and Honey! Always a treat when he hits the stage!” As the DJ spoke and the kid collected his earnings, the low purple lights switched back on. “Before we move on to our next dancer, my boss says I must remind you that private shows can be requested at the bar! Now, next up...” The DJ began announcing the next talent but Tony stopped listening; his brain overrun by thoughts of the kid’s performance.

“Boss, I’m detecting an increased heart rate and blood pooling in the gr-”

“Didn’t I ask for no talking?” Tony whispered under his breath.

“You requested a _sec_, which, through analyzing your usage statistics, I have calculated to be somewhere in the interval of one second to two hours. Therefore, I am unable to deduce the proper amount of waiting time.”

Tony rolled his eyes at his AI, ignoring her sass once again and, instead, grabbing the bartender’s attention. “Get me a private room with Silk and Honey.”

“Yes, sir.” The bartender nodded and began ringing up Tony’s purchase on the register. “How much time would you like to-?”

“All of it.”  
“Excuse me?”

“All of it,” Tony repeated with a sarcastic glint in his eye. “As in from now until closing.”

The bartender gave a surprised face but didn’t dare question the large sum of money Tony dropped on the boy. “You can go to the third room. He will meet you there.”

Without a thank you, Tony moved towards the private room area to the left of the bar. It was separated by a satin curtain and guarded by a bouncer that nodded and waved him in as he approached. The hallway was filled with the aroma of liquor and the sounds of satisfied men. When Tony reached the third door, it had a small sign hanging on it with _Silk __and Honey_ written in cursive.

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony’s gaze snapped to the voice behind him. The kid was standing there. His mouth and nose were still hidden behind his mask and his body was still wrapped in that sexy leather harness, those eye-catching heels, and those scandalous short shorts. Tony’s breath caught but he parted his lips to speak anyway. “That would be me, kid.”

The kid’s eyes sparkled and his cheeks raised, and Tony couldn’t help but picture the sweet smile that lay beneath the veil. “Thank you for paying for me tonight.” He placed a hand in Tony’s and pushed open the door. Inside was lit like the club, low and purple. There was a raised platform with a single pole and a sofa facing it. “Sit here, Mr. Stark. I want you to be very comfortable.”

Tony took a seat, “How old are you, kid?”

“I’m of age.” The kid’s heels rhythmically clicked against the black linoleum as he stepped on top of the platform, placing a hand on the pole. “Now, is there anything special that I can do for you, Mr. Stark?”

Tony cleared his throat, knowing that he needed to throw away his attraction to the kid and focus on his mission. He knew he needed to confront him about being Spider-Man. He knew he had to ask why Peter Parker, a seventeen year-old high school student, was working as a stripper. He knew he had to do these things. But he didn’t.

“Why don’t you start by taking those shorts off for me?”


	2. Chapter 2

Peter giggled, his hips seductively swaying as his thumbs dipped into the waistband of his silk shorts. “You want to see _everything_, don’t you, Mr. Stark?” He gave a slow, enticing twirl, teasing the top of his shorts down far enough to make Tony’s breath go shallow before pulling them back into place. “But you have me for hours, sir. Don’t you want to savor it?” Peter grabbed at the pole and lifted himself off the ground, clutching his thighs around it and dropping his arms to do a hand-less sit. “Don’t you want to savor me?” His voice was dreamy and paired with the tantalizing sight of his fingers skimming down his milky chest, grazing the straps of his harness.

Tony crossed his arms and leaned back against the sofa, watching Peter’s perfect body move around the pole like he belonged on it. “Is that what your usual clients ask you for? Savoring?”

“No,” Peter spun around the pole, sensually dropping his body against the tile. “They aren’t like you, Mr. Stark. I’ve never had one person buy up my time like this.” He giggled again, and the sound of it was starting to add to Tony’s fervor. “Everyone wants it fast because they can’t afford to go slow.”

Tony smirked, trying to exude a composed demeanor despite the arousal tenting in his slacks, “Which do you prefer?”

“Depends on the person,” Peter laid flat on his back, heels pressed into the floor as he rolled his hips upward. “You’re definitely someone I want to take my time with, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s mouth went dry as he stared at Peter’s hips, imagining his hands around them and pulling at them as he buried himself deep enough to make the kid scream.

“And why is that, kid?”

Peter hummed as he thought of his answer, flipping onto his hands and knees to do the floor work from his performance. It was the same erotic motion that made blood rush to Tony’s pants – and it still held that titillating power. Peter let out a soft huff of breath like he was holding back a laugh. “Maybe it’s because I know how rich you are, Mr. Stark.” He sat up on his knees, his playful eyes connecting with Tony’s and his tongue darting out to lick across the length of his blush pink lips. “Tempting men out of their money is in my job description after all.”

Tony shifted against the sofa, painfully aware of the full stiffness in his pants but gripping onto subtly with every fiber of his being. He wasn’t going to let Peter’s wiles defeat him just yet. So, he brandished a sly grin, “You’re going to have to do more than that if you want to tempt me, kid.” He reached into his pocket, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a crisp one hundred dollar bill. “Come earn this.”

Peter’s eyes twinkled with excitement, “Yes, sir.” He swung his legs off the platform, his sparkly heels connecting with the tile in a resonating _click_ that compelled Tony’s gaze. And Peter must have noticed because his gait turned captivating, each step falling in line with the last and blended with a fierce sensuality no seventeen year-old should posses. “Do you like my shoes, Mr. Stark? You can’t seem to keep your eyes off them.”

Tony’s eyes shot back up to Peter’s and he cleared his throat like he’d been caught doing something sinful, something the opposite of subtle. “They’re nice.” His face felt hot and he hoped the lights were dim enough so Peter couldn’t see the redness that undoubtedly tinted his cheeks. “They look good on you.”

“Careful, Mr. Stark.” Peter giggled again – and again, it only plunged Tony further into his lust. “You shouldn’t reveal all your weaknesses to a stripper.” He brought the tip of his heel up and placed it against the edge of the sofa between Tony’s legs. “I’ll be forced to monopolize them.”

As Tony stared at the shiny platform stiletto, he felt lightheaded. His hardness struggling against his zipper. And impulsively, his hand moved to caress the kid’s leg, but just as his fingertip grazed the smooth skin, Peter pulled away.

“Sorry,” Tony mumbled, realizing very quickly what unspoken line he had crossed. This was a strip club. A place where viewing pleasures was almost guaranteed, but touching them was a luxury strippers gave at their own discretion.

“Don’t be sorry, Mr. Stark.” Peter returned his heel to the edge of the sofa. “It’s okay. I’m just teasing. If you didn’t react that way, I’d be worried about the quality of my skills.” This time he laughed. It was stronger than his giggle but just as cute, and it made Tony crave the sight of his smile.

“You’re skills are great, kid.” Tony idly fiddled with the money in his hand, staring at Peter’s face and still trying to maintain some semblance of control over himself. “Watching you is a treat.”

“Well,” Peter hummed happily as he stepped away from the sofa, turning towards the door and pressing a button on a panel to its left. “Touching me will be even better.” Soft music started flowing through room from speakers in the ceiling. This song was much slower than the kid’s performance music. This song was sensual. This song was a lap dance song.

“Kid,” Tony said breathlessly, his eyes traveling up and down Peter’s body as he began dancing again.

As he approached the sofa, Peter’s hips gracefully swayed side to side. His fingers trailed up his own thighs and navel and chest like he was presenting them; like he was demanding they be looked at; like Tony would be foolish to look at anything else. And, at first, he remained standing in the space between Tony’s knees, rolling his body to the music and making bedroom eyes at the older man. His motions were fluid and brimming with a sexual energy that Tony wanted to indulge in.

Then, Peter turned, placing his hands behind him on Tony’s knees, bending forward, and popping his hips in time. The plump curves of his ass bouncing just inches away from Tony’s erection. And the sight was fucking maddening; a test of Tony’s self-control like no other.

“Kid,” Tony repeated, husky and low, and from a hazy place of lust that Peter was viciously dragging him through.

Peter turned again, still elegantly swaying his body to the deep melodies. This time dropping his hands against Tony’s legs and giggling when the older man flinched. And if Tony wasn’t a man of science, then he would be convinced that Peter’s touch was burning him. Radiating heat from his fingertips as he skimmed them down Tony’s thighs like some sort of pyro anomaly.

“I’m not a kid, Mr. Stark.”

Peter was right. He wasn’t a kid. He wasn’t some innocent child with insecurities and naivety spilling out of him. He was young in years, sure, but his experiences had obviously aged him. His confidence, his observant eyes, his eroticism, his seduction, his sheer control over everything that was happening – no kid should possess those things, yet, here Peter was.

“What should I call you then?”

Peter gave Tony a playful look before lifting his knee against the sofa and bringing his leg across the older man’s lap. And Tony groaned, unable to hold back his fervor. The feeling of Peter’s body against his was too delectable, too utterly mind-numbing. The kid was close enough for the fruity perfume he wore to mingle with the air. Close enough for Tony to wage war against his desirous impulses.

“People here like to call me all sorts of things,” Peter’s voice dropped to a sweet whisper as he rolled his hips downward, brushing himself against the bulge in Tony’s pants. “But I like honey the best.”

Tony wanted to grab on, grip Peter at his waist and rut against him until they were both spent. But he also didn’t want Peter to pull this sensation away from him. It was simply too good to ruin. So he kept his palms against the sofa; one still clutching the bill and the other just clutching as Peter worked. Each beat in the song punctuated with a gentle grind and a pleasure that Tony basked in.

“Alright,” All of Tony’s breaths became heavy and slow. “I’ll call you honey.”

Tony made eye-contact and Peter let out a little squeak, his eyes darting away from Tony’s gaze when it happened. “Wow.”

“What is it?”

“I like it even more when you say it, Mr. Stark.”

Tony scoffed, a grin tugging on his lips at Peter’s reaction, “I bet you say that to everyone.”

“No,” Peter whispered as his song came to its finale. “I’m being honest.” He paused, dropping his hips to be flush with Tony’s body. “Can’t you feel how honest I’m being, Mr. Stark?”

That broke Tony; the feeling of the young man’s hardness pressed against him. The sensation tore apart whatever restraint he had left. He brought a hand against Peter’s waist, surprised when the kid flinched but glad when he relaxed into the touch. “Here,” Tony brought the hundred dollar bill to the waistband at the front of Peter’s shorts and tucked it in. “You’ve earned it, honey.”

Peter made that same little squeak as before and was just as embarrassed. “Okay, forget what I said. You can go back to calling me kid.”

“No,” Tony smiled, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist, “You’re enjoying it. Why would I stop?”

“Because I’m the one that should be pleasing you.” Peter whispered, “Not the other way around.”

“You are pleasing me, honey,” Tony whispered back, “Can’t you feel how pleased I am?”

“Yeah,” Peter rocked his hips down, “I feel it.”

“Yeah?” Tony tensed at the sensation, “I feel you too.”

Peter’s eyes were half-lidded, but he giggled, all breathy and soft like he’d been defeated, “Fuck it. I’m breaking the rules for you, okay?”

Tony didn’t know what to say to that. All he could do was watch Peter climb off his lap, place his money against the platform, and move to lock the door.

“I’m not supposed to lock the door, Mr. Stark,” Peter said with fake innocence, as his thumbs dipped into the waistband of his silk shorts for the second time tonight. “I’m not supposed to let you touch me without these on either.” He tugged, pulling the shorts down past his knees where they fell free, pooling at his feet. “I’m not supposed to play favorites.” He stepped towards Tony again. “But you’re worth the risk, Mr. Stark.” He climbed into Tony’s lap. “I want to touch you, and I want you to touch me. Can we?”

Tony’s jaw dropped. His mind working in overdrive, trying to process what was happening. Of course, a ‘no’ came to his mind first. Despite drowning in his wanton urges, he still recognized that he was being dishonest. He knew who Peter was. He knew who Spider-Man was. But Peter didn’t know he knew and that was wrong. He _knew_ that was wrong but then the kid’s hands were against his chest, dragging downward, all fiery like before, and he gave, “Yes.”

Peter moaned at the consent, wasting no time in unfastening Tony’s pants, pulling his cock free, and pressing their lengths together. “_Fuck yes_,” Peter whined, dropping his forehead against Tony’s shoulder. “I love how your cock feels, Mr. Stark.”

Tony almost came from that. Peter’s little breathy, high-pitched noises and his words that were just as sensuous and erotic as his dancing. “Yeah?” Tony breathed, gripping at he kid’s thigh with one hand and wrapping his other around their shafts. “What do you like about it, honey?”

Peter jolted at the touch, or maybe at the pet name. Tony didn’t know. All he knew was that it was adorable. “I like how big it is. I like that it’s yours.” The kid moaned, thrusting his hips for more friction and lifting his head to lock gazes with Tony. “Close your eyes.”

“Wha-?”

“Close them!” Peter demanded and Tony obliged, cutting off his visual stimulus and trading it for something much better.

Peter was kissing him. Passionately, too. All open-mouthed and needy and deep like all the oxygen in the world disappeared and Tony held the last bit of it. The best part was the way he whined into it and started dripping pre-cum all over their cocks. And when he pulled away, Tony opened his eyes to see Peter’s face and all its glory, not caring about the consequences.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter blushed, hiding his face against Tony’s shoulder. “Why would you do that? I said-”

“Because you’re fucking gorgeous, honey,” Tony whispered against Peter’s ear. “So beautiful and mesmerizing and handsome, and I couldn’t help it. I wanted to see that pretty face.”

Suddenly, Peter’s body went rigid and his breaths became gasps and his cock was spilling. His body quaking underneath orgasm and his mouth releasing the sweetest whines against Tony’s neck. “_Sorry, I’m sorry_ I came. I came, _fuck_, I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I’ll- Let me-” Peter grabbed Tony’s cock and stroked, smearing his cum up and down the shaft.

Tony groaned at the contact, each flick of the kid’s wrist making a rush of pleasure flood his body. “Don’t apologize for feeling good, hon.”

Peter finally lifted his head, and despite his uncovered face, he pressed his forehead against Tony’s. “I didn’t apologize because it felt good.” He whispered, “I apologized because I wanted to make you come first.” He giggled and his smile was just as amazing as Tony imagined it to be.

And Tony couldn’t take it, so he came. Groaning deep and shooting three spurts into Peter’s hand as he hit euphoria and started his journey back down.

“Did that feel good, Mr. Stark?” Peter whispered, pressing kisses against Tony’s cheek.

“Yeah, Pete.”

And who knew two words could ruin so much?

Peter’s face fell and his eyes were a mix of confusion, anger, and – no matter how much Tony wished it away – fear. “Kid, wait, I can explain, I-”

“No!” Peter screamed and jumped away, grabbing his shorts and recoiling to the back of the platform with spider-like reflexes.

“Kid, I-”

“Get out!” Tears started falling from Peter’s eyes.

“Peter, I’m sorry. I-!” Tony tried but the damage was done.

“Don’t fucking call me that! Get the hell out!” Peter looked at Tony with rage bubbling inside him, “I said get out!” He screamed again. This time slamming his forearm against the pole, bending it with his superhuman strength.

And Tony left. Feeling absolutely vile and filled with regret.


	3. Chapter 3

“So, we’re just going to ignore this then?” Rhodey asked, shifting in the lab stool to face Tony and holding up a tabloid with a picture of his friend and the words ‘_Tony Stark prowls Gay Strip Club at Night_’ in big white lettering.

“Yes,” Tony’s brow furrowed as he silently tinkered with some new invention, soldering two pieces of metal together with careful precision. He did this sometimes, especially after having a rough night. Escaping to the lab when things got too heavy. Too stressful. Too much his fault. Yet, despite his efforts, his mind wouldn’t erase the image of Peter’s face dropping into that confusion, that anger, that fear. It was tormenting him, eating away at his conscience like a virus. “FRIDAY’s already working on erasing it and Pep’s talking it down at the press conference today.”

“O-kay,” Rhodey pressed his lips together in a hard line, discarding the paper in the trash bin by the desk. “Then how about the spider kid? Did you find Peter?”

Tony jumped, burning his hand on the edge of the soldering iron, “Fuck!” He exclaimed, dropping the iron and slamming his fist against the work table. “No!” He let out the heaviest of sighs. “No, Rhodey. I would like to ignore this whole string of questions, alright? Thanks.”

But Rhodey just crossed his arms, shooting his best friend a raised eyebrow and a look that showed how thoroughly done he was with Tony’s bullshit. “What happened, Tony?”

With an eye roll paired and an exasperated hand through his short locks, Tony spoke, “I fucked up.”

“Are we talking a big Tony Stark fuck up,” Rhodey squinted, spanning his arms outward before clasping his hands together and saying, “Or a little one?”

“Definitely a big one.”

“Alright, it wouldn’t be the first time,” Rhodey gestured for him to continue. “Go on.”

Tony stood from the desk and started pacing back forth on the lab floor. His nerves spilling from his gait like an overfilled cup. “I took advantage of the kid.” He sighed, “I was looking for him, and I found out he works at a strip club, and-”

“Hold on.” Rhodey interrupted, “A _strip club?_ Isn’t he seventeen?”

“Your guess is as good as mine on that one.” Tony shrugged before continuing. “And I saw him – you know, _dancing_ – and I may have, kind of, possibly bought all his time for the night, and-”

“Tony,” Rhodey pressed a finger against his temple. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” Tony gave a weak nod, his solemn expression translating his severity. “And, to make matters worse, I didn’t even tell him that I knew who he was until after.”

Rhodey sighed, dropping his head into his hands, “This is the biggest Tony Stark fuck up to date.”

“You’re telling me.” Tony slumped onto the ground, leaning against the desk by his best friend’s seat. “Got any advice before I just evaporate from this state of existence?”

Rhodey pondered the question for a long moment before locking eyes with his friend, “Maybe War Machine should just publicly arrest you.” He grinned. “Along with everyone working at that strip club.”

Tony scoffed with a smile tugging at his lips, “Okay, that’s the last time I ask you for help.”

“What? It seems like your best option.” He laughed as he joined Tony on the floor. “Look, man,” Rhodey’s voice dropped to a low tone, “If you want my honest opinion, I think you just need to apologize. Explain yourself. Make it known that you recognize what you did wrong. If he doesn’t completely kick you to the curb, make some grand gesture. Flex the billionaire muscle. I don’t know- Just do something for the kid. What does he like? What does he need?”

Tony paused, absorbing his friend’s words and letting his mind race through the possibility of redemption. “You know what? Let’s find out.” He clapped his hands together, “FRIDAY! Pull up Parker’s file, would you?”

“Yes, boss,” FRIDAY’s voice activated the lab’s hologram screen and projected it to the space in front of the two men. “Peter Parker, know aliases: Spider-Man and Silk and Honey.”

Rhodey feigned a shocked expression, “_Silk and Honey_, huh?”

Tony laughed and bumped his elbow against his friend’s arm, “Shut up.”

FRIDAY continued, “Age: eighteen.”

“Wait a sec, hold on, FRI,” Tony interjected. “What do you mean by that? Last time I asked, he was seventeen.”

“Boss, human beings tend to age over time.” FRIDAY’s unintentional deadpan humor made Rhodey burst into laughter. “During your last inquiry, Peter Parker was seventeen, but as of today, he has turned eighteen.”

“A bit too early on the draw there, huh Tony?” Rhodey wiped a laughter-induced tear from his eye. “The very definition of just barely hitting the mark.”

Tony mirrored Rhodey’s earlier _I’m-done-with-your-BS _look. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to keep the mood light,” Rhodey admitted, his amusement dwindling into light laughter and a small grin. “So why’s he working at the strip club, FRI?”

“Peter Parker’s place of residence was recently acquired by a new management company. The company intends to demolish the building. So, in an attempt to evict current residents, the rent was increased.” FRIDAY explained. “Analysis suggests that Peter is attempting to meet the raised rent cost.”

Rhodey sighed, tipping his head back against the side of the desk. “He’s doing that, school, and the spider thing? Poor kid.”

Tony agreed, nodding as his brain concocted a plan to apologize. “I think I know what I’ll do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Buy his building.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes, “I guess that’s _one_ way to flex the billionaire muscle.”

~

On the following day, Tony enacted his plan. Not only did he purchase the building but he invited the previous tenants back and even reimbursed the excess rent. It was a grand gesture, and judging by the security feed of Peter storming Stark Tower, it definitely managed to grab the kid’s attention.

Tony instructed the front desk to allow Peter up, and he waited. Mentally reciting his apology on loop. Everything from _I’m sorry_ to _please don’t hate me_. He prepared himself for every possibility. If Peter hated his guts, then he would just accept it. Maybe call Rhodey; reconsider the whole War Machine arrest thing. But, if by some miracle, Peter forgave him – well, he would do everything he could to make up for his mistake.

And suddenly, without so much as a knock, Peter breached the penthouse doors. He was fuming; his anger delivered through sharp eyes and rigid gestures. “You bought my fucking building?!” He screamed, “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

Tony parted his lips to speak, to unleash the apology he so meticulously prepared, but the nerves coiling within him made it catch in his throat. He was silent for a moment, staring at Peter with a wary expression. His palms going clammy and his breath going still. Scared to say the wrong thing. Scared to _do_ the wrong thing. Scared.

Peter squinted, his brow furrowing and his jaw dropping in disbelief. “You really have nothing to say!?”

That shoved Tony back into his plan and he hectically gathered himself to speak, “Listen, Peter, I-”

“You know what? No!” Peter shook his head and put his hand up, palm out, signaling for the older to be silent. “You’re going to shut up and you’re going to listen to me!”

And Tony obeyed, because what else was he supposed to do?

“How the _fuck_ did you know my name was Peter? I keep thinking back on it and I can’t quite figure it out.” Peter began pacing. “Did you recognize my face? Have you seen me at my school? Did you target me because of that? Because you knew how _young_ I was? I mean,” He scoffed. “Buying all my time was one thing, but tipping me a hundred and saying all those nice things – was that all just some sick game to you?! Was _I_ just some sick game to you?!”

“No! Peter, I just-”

“I broke the fucking rules for you!” The kid screamed. His fists balling, his knuckles going white, and his eyes filling with tears. “I let you fucking _touch_ me! I was vulnerable with you! And you were just lying the whole time!”

“Peter-”

“Did you have fun? Using me like that?” Peter’s voice began to tremble, as did his lips and his breath, and all at once, his emotion started to pour from his eyes. “Did you have fun making me look stupid?”

And Tony felt it; the weight of his actions crushing his very being. “Kid, I- I’m sorry.” His elaborate apology lost on him now as the moment of grief took control and pulled desperate words from somewhere he hadn’t stored them. “None of this was supposed to happen. I was tracking you, yes, but because I knew you were Spider-Man, and I-”

“Great!” Peter threw his hands up. “Just fucking great.” He sobbed, inhaling sharp and exhaling shallow, trying to hold himself together. “You knew I was Spider-Man too?!”

“Yes,” Tony breathed, his eyes beginning to sting at the sight of the kid’s tears. “I wanted to make you an Avenger. _That’s_ why I was tracking you. I saw you go into the club, and when I went in, I swear – Pete, _I swear_ – I was just going to talk, but then I- I saw you dance, and-”

Peter’s eyes went wide, and for fraction of a second, Tony thought he saw a flash of something that wasn’t sadness beneath all the tears. “And what?”

“And I couldn’t help myself.” Tony locked eyes with Peter. “You’re-” He paused, unsure if what he wanted to say would be right, but stepping onto the proverbial edge to say it anyway. “You’re gorgeous, kid. Absolutely the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I got caught up in a fantasy of you, and it made me do something stupid, something I regret, and I apologize. I won’t blame you for hating me, I just-”

“Wait. You were _really_ just there to recruit me?” Peter sniffled, regaining his composure and using his sleeve to cast away his tears. “As an Avenger? _Me?_”

As Peter found his calm, like a mirror, so did Tony. “Yes. That was the plan. _Nothing else._ I knew you were Peter Parker and Spider-Man before I knew you were Silk and Honey.”

Peter broke his gaze away, training his eyes on the floor, “And what about my building? Why’d you do that? Why’d you buy it?”

“A grand gesture.” Tony gave a soft smile, repeating Rhodey’s words from yesterday. “I found out what that company was doing – not just to you, but to _everyone_ in your building – and I put a stop to it. I don’t want you to worry about money anymore. You won’t have to strip anymore, or-”

“I _like_ stripping.” Peter’s interruption was sharp.

Tony flinched, doubling back on his words, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you can do it because you _want_ to, not because you _have_ to.” He took a deep breath. “Just know that I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so, so sorry.”

Peter was quiet, then, twiddling his thumbs as he absorbed Tony’s apology.

And Tony was on edge because of it. Internally losing his shit. He thought his nerves were bad before when nothing had been said, but now, they were on overdrive. Frantically rushing his body with sorrowful thoughts of Peter’s possible rejection or worse, his hatred. It was uncomfortable to say the least; agonizing to say the most. And only after a moment so silent and so long that Tony was certain he was done for, Peter finally looked up.

“Did you mean it?” The kid’s eyes were searching Tony’s very soul as if to detect any shred of dishonesty. “What you said about me being…um- g-gorgeous and all that?”

“Yes.” Tony was earnest – more earnest than even he thought he was capable of being. “Every word.”

Peter took a deep breath and ran a hand through his brunette curls, “I think we should start over.” He gave a small, fatigued smile like his emotional energy was spent.

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker, also Spider-Man, but you know that already,” He giggled; the same giggle that Tony adored. “And I’m a student, I just turned eighteen yesterday, and my birthday sucked for _a lot _of reasons,” He grinned and took a few steps closer to Tony, who was positively melting under the boy’s sweet words. “But this guy I thought I hated – you may be familiar with him, his name’s Tony Stark – he bought my apartment building today as a _grand gesture_, and even though I was confused about it at first, I think I’m starting to see where his heart’s at.” He ended with a short nod and motioned for Tony to follow along.

“Okay, kid,” Tony gave a light scoff but smiled nonetheless. “Hi, I’m Tony Stark, Iron Man, genius, billionaire, playboy – though I don’t claim that one – and philanthropist.” His voice trailed into a whisper as he closed the gap between himself and Peter, cupping the kid’s face in his palms. “And I’ve fallen for Peter Parker.”

Peter’s face exploded in a pink hue, Tony’s candid words catching him off-guard, “M-Mr. Stark!” All at once, his stutters were captured by the older man’s lips, disappearing in the torrid momentum of their spontaneous and utterly electrifying kiss.

The kiss was soft and full of feeling. Like something out of a movie, where sparks would fly and romantic music would play and, somehow, the couple would be floating into the distance as their love culminated in the final scene. It was like watching a natural phenomenon up close; the aurora borealis in the middle of the frigid arctic or the bloom of a desert rose. Like taking your first breath after nearly drowning. Like finding something lost after years and years of search. Sure, it wasn’t their first kiss but something about it held that power all the same.

Peter pulled away first, his awestruck eyes locking with Tony’s enraptured ones. “That’s not fair.” He whispered. “You can’t just kiss me like that.”

Tony wrapped his arms around the kid’s waist, pressing their bodies together. “And why not?”

“Because I think I fell for you too.”

“Fell?” Tony smirked, “As in past tense?”

“Yeah,” Peter leaned into Tony, hiding his embarrassed expression against the older man’s shoulder. “At the club, in the private room, I thought you were so hot. I mean, I kept thinking that after work, I would have to ask you out. And then when we – you know, _messed around_ – I knew I was taking a risk but I couldn’t pass it up. I already had a crush on you by then, and I think that’s why I was so upset to think you had purposefully used me or something.”

“You flatter me, kid,” Tony squeezed, pouring his feelings into the embrace. “I’m so sorry for everything. I should’ve been able to control myself. I should’ve said something. I-”

Peter shook his head, “No, it’s okay. I can tell you didn’t mean to hurt me.” He smiled, his gaze turning seductive. “And if I’m honest, I like that I can make you lose control like that.”

Tony could feel the heat building in his cheeks, but he played into Peter’s hand anyway. “I like it too.” He pressed a kiss beneath the kid’s ear. “In fact, you’re doing it to me right now.”

“Am I?” Peter giggled and leaned back, a teasing tone sprinkled in his voice. “Well, Mr. Stark, we’re just going to have to do something about that, won’t we?”

Tony smiled, allowing himself to indulge in the kid’s beguiling force, but it was a momentary, “Wait, Peter, are you sure? You know we don’t have to, right? I don’t want you thinking that all I want is sex.”

“I want it though,” Peter spoke, his hands slowly trailing down Tony’s back, around to his front and up to his shoulders. “While future me appreciates your willingness to go slow, the me right now really wants to be fucked.”

And who the hell was Tony to deny such a request?


	4. Chapter 4

Tony leaned in, one hand placed firmly on the small of Peter’s back and the other tangled in the soft curls at the nape of the kid’s neck, as he captured those eager lips against his own. This kiss was more passionate; more needy; more open-mouthed and wet. The sweet intensity from their last kiss still buzzed in the air but it was background noise to this carnal exchange. The way Peter’s tongue licked inside Tony’s mouth – the way he moaned into it, the way let himself get lost in the feeling – it sent waves of blissful anticipation through Tony’s body. He couldn’t wait for more.

Peter pulled away slow, gently dragging Tony’s bottom lip between his teeth. A smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth – his moist lips shining glossy in the penthouse lights and his eyes half-lidded, suggestively delivering his lust. “So, you going to take me in your room or would you prefer to fuck me over your couch?”

Tony gave a swift inhale, suppressing the desirous groan that threatened to escape at the sound of Peter’s tantalizing words. “Bedroom,” He said, grabbing Peter by his hand and turning on his heel, leading the younger man to the master bedroom. “But maybe the couch could be fun next time.”

Peter giggled, moving to match strides with the older man, “And maybe the kitchen, and the balcony, and the lab, and the Avengers compound, and-”

“You’re insatiable.” Tony interrupted, a huge grin dancing on his lips.

Peter feigned a coy smile, “I just know what I like, Mr. Stark.”

“Speaking of which,” Tony pushed the bedroom doors open. “I hope you like at least some of this.”

Inside, underneath the dimmed lights of the bedroom, there was a pile of gift bags and boxes atop the bed. All neatly wrapped with colorful paper and bows, branded with luxury fashion logos and expensive foreign labels.

“What’s all this, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, his eyes marveling over the mountain of gifts.

Tony smiled as Peter’s face lit up. “Birthday gifts. For you.” He guided the younger man past the threshold of the doors and motioned of him to take a look. “When I found out about your birthday, I felt bad so I picked out a few things.”

“A _few_?” Peter dramatically asked. “There are like twenty bags here, plus these four boxes, and you even got me flowers. All of this is for me?”

“Yes, of course, it is.”

“But why?” Peter questioned, despite the energetic way he climbed on the bed and started pulling at the wrapping of one of the boxes. “You just met me and we barely know each other and we were arguing.”

Tony shrugged, taking a seat at the edge of the bed, “We were arguing because _I_ did something wrong.” He explained, “So, in my guilt, I made some impulse buys. Honestly, I didn’t even think you would want them. Not after how angry you were with me. I planned for pretty much every reaction, but I didn’t think this – my hopeful, _everything is fine_ plan – would be the one that made it through.”

“And what about if I refused your apology? What then?”

Tony scoffed with a grin, “Well, War Machine did offer to arrest me, so maybe that.”

“Wow!” Peter gasped, half at Tony’s plan and a half at the gift laying inside the box. “Sorry, Mr. Stark, that’s hilarious but – _oh my god_ – these shoes!” Peter beamed, holding up a pair of bright red strappy platform stilettos. “They aren’t exactly Silk and Honey’s style – I like to keep it sweet and angelic, you know – but still, I _love_ these!”

Tony gave a relieved smile. “I’m glad you like them, kid.”

“They’re perfect! What else did you get?” Peter asked with an enticed smile as he grabbed the gift beside the opened box. This one was a medium-sized bag with pink tissue paper artfully exploding from its top. “What’s in this one?”

“Open it to find out.”

Tony gestured for Peter to look inside the bag, so the kid took to throwing the pink paper aside, not caring where it fell. Then, he just froze. His face glowing with excitement as he glanced between the older man and the inside of the gift bag. “Okay, I’m definitely putting this on.” He hopped off the bed. “And these!” He quickly added, grabbing the shoes and scurrying into the en suite bathroom.

Tony smiled at the kid’s enthusiasm. Though, it was an anxious smile. He had to admit: he couldn’t fucking wait to see Peter dressed up for him. Even now, as he cleared the bed of gift bags and boxes, moving them to the dresser across the room, he felt a flutter in his stomach. It was a teenage-like emotion. Something he hasn’t experienced for anyone in a long time.

After a few minutes, the bathroom door swung open, pulling Tony’s attention from his spot across the room.

And the sight was a fucking treat.

Peter stepped out wearing nothing but the red strappy heels and a matching red strappy garter belt that sat at his waist and connected to straps around his thighs. Tony didn’t know where to look. Everything about the kid was perfect; his soft brown locks, his alluring eyes, his bare chest, his toned waist, his cute erection, his smooth thighs, and – _oh_ – the shoes.

That’s where Tony looked.

“What do you think, Mr. Stark?” Peter teasingly spoke, knowing exactly what he was doing as his gait turned captivating, each step falling in line with the last and blended with that same fierce sensuality he showed at the club. “Do you like the shoes?”

Tony gave a slow nod, his gaze trained on the stilettos, “They look amazing on you, Pete.”

“Really?” Peter’s tone changed. It became a bit more sultry, more daring, more dominant. “Because you don’t sound too sure.” He challenged, turning to sit on the edge of the bed and locking eyes with the older man across the room. “You should come over here and show me just how amazing they look on me.” He crossed his legs and leaned back against his palms, the crossed heel swinging back and forth like a sinful temptation. “Preferably while kneeling.” He ended with a sly smirk.

Tony’s erection became painful at the kid’s words and he found himself moving without thinking. Dropping to his knees in front of Peter, obeying the boy’s command, and when it happened, Tony felt no need to hold back. He brought his lips against Peter’s knee first, dragging a litany of wet kisses down the boy’s leg. And he didn’t stop when he reached the straps. Instead, he lifted Peter’s leg and kept going; kissing across the straps, continuing to the top of Peter’s foot, and down the tip of the shoe.

“You’re really into this, aren’t you, Mr. Stark?” Peter pressed his other heel down against Tony’s thigh, torturously dragging it across the older man’s hardness and smiling when Tony’s breath hitched. “Wow, you’re _so_ hard.” Peter playfully taunted. “Take it out for me, Mr. Stark. Right now.”

Tony gave a soft laugh, locking gazes with the kid, “Peter, I-”

“Did you not hear me?”

_Fuck._ Tony did as he was told, undoing his pants and pulling his erection free with one hand, as his other still grasped Peter’s ankle. The freedom was relieving, but that relief was short-lived. Suddenly, Peter’s heel was back against his length. The cool, glossy leather of the heel nudging against his bare cock. The sensation made his eyes squeeze shut. Pleasure rolled through his body, and his muscles clenched and his breath went still, trying to hold back a groan that managed to escape anyway.

“Eyes open, Mr. Stark,” Peter demanded as he pressed a bit harder, forcing Tony’s compliance. “Tell me, how’s this feel?”

Tony knew he was losing it. If there was ever a balance of power, the scales had tipped so far in Peter’s favor that Tony didn’t think it was even recoverable. The kid knew exactly how to use his talents; that confidence, those observant eyes, that eroticism, that seduction, that sheer control over everything that was happening. Peter knew what he was fucking doing.

“It’s good,” Tony’s voice was deep, dipped in arousal and delivered through blissfully parted lips. “So good.”

“Then you better show me and these beautiful shoes some thanks.”

And Tony did. Returning to his kissing – his _worshiping_ – of Peter’s red heel. The carnal atmosphere giving him the confidence to indulge. His tongue darted out, licking across the platform with a long flat swipe, making the glossy shoe even glossier. Then he did it again. This time with a groan and a roll of his hips into the press of Peter’s other heel.

“Thank you,” Tony whispered, his eyes clouded with pleasure. “Thank you, honey.”

Peter whined at that, his face blushing and his dominance cracking underneath the use of his favorite pet name. “Okay, that’s enough, it’s my turn.” He pulled his heels away and spread his thighs. “Come up here and fuck me.” He reached down, grabbing the collar of Tony’s button-up and tugging, tearing the front fabric away and flinching at his accidental misuse of super strength. “_Shit_, sorry.” He giggled.

“It’s fine,” Tony laughed, pulling off what remained of the shirt before standing in the space between Peter’s thighs. “It shows me just how eager you are, beautiful,” Tony whispered, tipping the power balance with Peter’s only known weakness: praise. He leaned down, trailing gentle pecks up Peter’s neck, across his tinted cheeks, and finally, against his mouth. Capturing another mouth-watering kiss before pushing the kid against the sheets and climbing onto the bed.

“You’re so fucking pretty, honey,” Tony spoke the compliment against Peter’s collarbone before latching on, sucking hard enough to mark his near-flawless skin.

Peter breathed a soft moan at the sensation, “_More_.”

“Anything for a good boy like you,” Tony mused, licking a short trail from the kid’s collarbone to his nipple before lapping at the pink nub. Swirling his tongue around it, rolling it between his teeth, sucking on it. Using his hand to flick at the neglected one and watching as Peter’s head tipped back against the duvet, giving in to the subtle pleasure with soft breathy whines.

“I love the sounds you’re making, gorgeous,” Tony brought his free hand against Peter’s length, smiling at the kid’s reaction. “Oh, I like that sound even better, hon.”

When Tony’s hand wrapped around his stiffness, Peter’s hips jolted upwards into the touch as a much louder, much needier moan escaped his lips. Tony kept his strokes slow. Agonizingly slow. A small payback for Peter’s constant teasing. He rubbed his thumb against the moistening slit, his fingers grazing up and down the pulsating length. All while continuing his gentle tugging at the kid’s nipples.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whined through an overwhelmed smile, his hands shooting down against Tony’s wrist. “If you make me cum before fucking me, I’ll be _so_ mad at you.”

Tony grinned at the boy’s sexual frustration, “Sorry, honey.” He stopped his ministrations and reached into the nightstand drawer, grabbing a bottle of lube and a condom. “Here, let me get you ready.”

“No,” Peter sat up, playfully snatching the bottle of lube before falling back against the bed. “I’ll do it.” He smirked, bringing one of his heels against Tony’s chest. “You watch.”

Again, the power balance shifted, and Tony couldn’t help the way his cock dribbled at the sight of Peter taking the lead. The kid squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers before reaching down and prodding his hole open. He donned a devious smile, “You like what you see, Mr. Stark?” His voice was smooth, unfazed by the slick stretching – like he has done it plenty of times before. “Your cock sure seems to like it.”

Tony grazed his hand across the heel pressed against his chest. “I do like what I see. So, so much. You’re an absolute treat to look at, honey. So fucking pretty for me.”

Peter gasped at the older man’s words – or maybe it was the impatient finger fucking – either way, Tony loved it. “Yeah?” Peter moaned, his eyes filled with intense fervor as his hand worked. “Tell me, how much do you want to fuck me, Mr. Stark?”

Tony smiled as he unwrapped the condom, “So fucking much, sweetheart. Can’t you tell,” He gestured down to his now condomed length. Between all of Peter’s dominance and those pretty red heels, it was practically stone at this point. “I can’t wait anymore.”

“Then don’t.” Peter pulled his fingers away and hooked his forearms under his knees, holding his legs back. “Fuck me, Mr. Stark, and don’t you _dare_ hold back. Just don’t. I can take it. I can take – _ah!_”

Tony pushed himself in, sliding almost to the hilt with little resistance. Marveling at the obscene way Peter writhed and screamed in pleasure. Watching intently as Peter’s breathing quickened, as his eyes went wide, as every muscle in his body tensed at the sudden fullness. “How’s this, honey?”

Peter couldn’t even form coherent sentences beyond the desperate and breathy strings of ‘_good, so fucking good, __don’t stop, don’t stop_’ pouring from his mouth.

And, at the sound of Peter’s fervent pleads, Tony lost himself in the moment. Rocking in and out of the younger boy with reckless abandon. Feeling the warmth and the tightness, and seeing the absolute ecstasy in Peter’s eyes. “You feel amazing, honey.” Tony groaned out, grabbing at the tops of Peter’s thighs for more leverage. “You’re so beautiful – _fuck_ – you’re too good. So fucking good for me.”

Peter’s whines, and his moans, and his cute little spasms, all became louder at the sound of Tony’s unbridled praise. And it mixed with the erotic noises of their voracious sex; the wetness of the lube, the slapping staccato of each thrust, the creak of the bed frame. It was unreal and only made better by the view of Peter’s milky skin wrapped in the red leather.

“Mr. Stark, I- _holy shit_, I’m going to come!” Peter suddenly screamed as he released one of his legs in favor of stroking his neglected cock. He furiously pumped, and after only a second, his muscles were clenching and his voice went high-pitched and his pupils were blown, and his orgasm ripped through him like an earthquake.

So Tony chased his own climax, slamming into Peter despite his overstimulated gasps; despite the cum still leaking from the head of his cock. “_Fuck_, Mr. Stark, it’s too much! You _have_ to come, please! _Come __for__ me_!”

And, of course, only seconds pass before Tony is groaning, his fingers digging into the kid’s skin as he climaxes so hard that his body shakes. So hard that he holds his breath to get through it. So hard that he wishes the condom wasn’t there and he was just filling the boy beneath him.

Then, Tony pulls out slow, taking in the sight of Peter’s lust drunk, exhausted frame. The way his back arched at the emptying sensation. The steadying rhythm of his fluctuating breaths and the way his chest expanding with each. The glisten of sweat across his forehead and the little hairs that stuck to it. The small pool of cum drying against his abs. The cute whine he released as Tony leaned down to kiss his chest. “You okay, Pete?” Tony asked, moving to lay beside the younger man.

“Yes,” Peter smiled. “That was great. Much better than what I thought would happen.”

“Excuse me?” Tony raised a brow. “You thought it was going to be bad? I’m offended.”

“What? No!” Peter giggled. “I meant our overall interaction. I just thought we would still be fighting. I thought you were this terrible guy, but really, you’re super sweet.”

“One of us has to be.”

Peter feigned offense with a grin. “You don’t think I’m sweet, Mr. Stark?”

“You can be,” Tony brought a gentle hand against Peter’s cheek. “But you’re also very sexual, very hot, you know – _spicy_, I suppose.”

“Maybe I should re-brand then. Go from Silk and Honey to Silk and Spice. Or Silky Spice? Oh – what about Hot Silk? Heat Silk? Fire and Silk? Or-”

“No,” Tony interrupted, his voice firm. “Don’t wear this for anyone else.”

Peter gave Tony a knowing look paired with a mischievous smirk, “And, if I don’t, what then? Will you punish me, sir? Will you fuck me up with your cock and make me regret ever disobeying you?”

“You’re insatiable.” Tony laughed.

Peter giggled along, “Like I said, I just know what I like, Mr. Stark.” He idly fiddled with the straps at his waist. “Really though, I’m fine with not showing this to anyone else, but only if you promise to let me practice dances on you.”

“In what universe would I ever say no to that deal?” Tony quipped.

Peter smirked, “Maybe in the one where you don’t offer to make me an Avenger and you don’t buy my apartment building and you don’t buy a billion gifts for me?”

“You like the gifts.” Tony smugly stated.

“You’re right.” Peter gave. “I do really like the gifts. Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Of course, honey, anything for you.” Tony pressed a gentle kiss against Peter’s cheek. “Oh, and happy belated birthday. I almost forgot to say it.”

“Thanks,” Peter smiled, his face flushing. “Um… when you say ‘anything’, do you really mean _anything_?”

“Yes, within reason – I’m not rewriting history or anything – what would you like?” Tony skeptically raised his brow.

Peter giggled, “A date?”

Tony smiled, “Sounds doable.”


End file.
